Brand-New and Shiny

Last week a raw, chilling rain followed
eddying snow on the flat frozen prairie north of Detroit. It fell on
the just and the unjust, and also on a 113-acre tract between Eleven
and Twelve Mile Roads. There the rain, sifting through the steel
skeleton of a sprawling, one-story building, gathered like dew on the
rough jackets of workmen, stiffened red hands that had to be warmed up
before the glowing maws of smoking salamanders. The rain did not slow
up the work, any more than the snow had: on & on went...